Whatever It Takes
by purplepagoda
Summary: She knows the truth. She knows that Tony is the one. What he doesn't know is that his mistakes aren't what is keeping them apart. The truth from Ziva's past is what's holding her back. Will she let him prove her wrong?
1. Broken

She stands in the closet, trying to find something to wear to work. She looks up, a box taunts her from a shelf, above her head. She pulls items of clothing off hangers, and pulls them on. She continues to stare at the box above her head.

Everyone who knew her, knew that she had a past. Some of the scars had healed, and some never would. There were things she had done, that she could never forget. There were people who she had lost, that she could not let go of.

They were just pictures, in a box. Pictures of someone she used to know, someone she used to be. Pictures of a life she once had, when she was young, and had faith in the world. They were just little reminders of an innocence that had long since been lost.

She hid them in a box, in the closet, for a reason. They were always there, but she chose to hide them away. From those who knew her best, and sometimes even from herself. But there are some secrets, that eat you, if you don't share them.

She touches the box, thinking of taking off the shelf. She takes a step box, and leaves the box in it's place. Today was not the day that she needed to go digging up old memories. She didn't need to take a stroll down memory lane, this early in the morning. She didn't have time, she needed to get to work. Days like these were especially hard. She only hoped that he could not see through her, like he often did. She could not handle his questions today, not without breaking down.

Hours later she finds herself stuck in a car with him. He drives. She says nothing to him. She just watches out the window.

"Ziva?"

"Huh?" she responds.

"What is on your mind? Is something bothering you?"

"No," she lies.

"Why do you have to lie to me? I know that I am not a ninja, but I know when you're lying."

"Let it go," she pleas.

"Talk to me," he begs.

"There is nothing to talk about."

"There is something, or you would be talking about it."

"That does not make any sense."

"Ziva why do you have to keep everything from me?"

"There are things that you do not need to know."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

She looks at him for a moment, and then turns and stares out the window. She could not answer him. She could not tell him the things that she told no one. She was not afraid that he would betray her, she knew he was the one person who would keep her secrets. He would take them to the grave, but... she could not tell him, because he would not understand. It was difficult for her to understand sometimes. Why she had become the person she was. Why she couldn't let anyone in. Why she had decided that it was easier to feel nothing, than anything at all.

"I know more about you than you think I do," he reminds her.

"You do not know as much about me as you would like."

"So tell me."

"You would not understand."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you. I know that if I told you, you would look at me differently. You would..."

"Ziva don't you know by now, I like you for exactly who you are."

"Who you think I am," she argues.

"I know that there are pieces that you don't want anyone to see, but at some point, some one is going to have to see them."

"Why should it be you?"

"Why not?"

"I can't," she blinks away tears.

"What is so bad that you can't tell me? After everything you have told me, after everything I know I don't understand what could be so terrible, that I would not understand."

"Everyone has secrets. If I tell you all of mine, then I will have none."

"Please."

"Just drive."

"Talk to me. Why did you let me drive? You never let me drive."

"Sometimes you have to let other people drive."

"Why?"

"I do not always get to be in control."

"I know that, but you rarely admit that. Whatever it is that is bothering you, it must be big."

"Yes," she nods.

"So tell me," he begs.

"A long time ago something happened, and I lost faith. While my faith was renewed, I never got all of it back."

"What happened?"

Ziva looks at her hand, and then she looks at Tony. His eyes meet hers for a brief second, before he redirects them, to the road.

"What was his name?" Tony asks.

"Gabriel," she admits.

"Gabriel? I have never heard you mention him."

"That is because I don't. I do not like to think about him."

"He broke your heart?"

"Sort of," she reveals.

"Who was he?"

"He was my first love."

"Your first love?"

"I met him when I was seventeen."

"What happened?"

"Life," she responds concisely.

"Life? That is pretty vague."

"I had one, he did not."

"Is that figure of speech?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"You never told him?"

"Told him what?"

"That you loved him?"

"He knew."

"He didn't feel the same?"

"He did."

They pull up to their destination. She bails out of the car, without another word.


	2. Picture

At the end of the day she finds herself alone on the elevator with him. She waits for him to start the conversation. He flips the elevator off, and turns, and looks at her.

"Who was Gabriel?"

"It doesn't matter who he was, he is gone now."

"We're not getting off this elevator, until you tell me."

"He was my first love. I didn't think that I would ever get over him."

"How long were you with him?" He looks at her.

"Almost five years," she admits.

"Almost five years?"

"Yes," she nods.

"That is a long time."

"Yes."

"He was the one?"

"I thought that he was."

"What changed?"

"I realized that the only one that is the one, is the one you're with."

"Why?"

"He died, if he was the only one, then..."

"You dated him for five years?"

"No. I only dated him for six months."

"I don't understand."

"Tony there are a lot of things that you don't know about me," she reminds him.

"So tell me."

She nods, in agreement. She doesn't look at him, she looks at the floor of the elevator.

"He was my husband," she reveals.

"Oh."

"That is all you have to say?"

"I never knew. I wish you had told me."

"So are we done?"

"This is not an interrogation, we're done whenever you want us to be."

"I know that sometimes the things that I do, do not make sense to you, but I have my reasons."

"No, now everything makes perfect sense. You lost the love of your life. You let someone get close, and now you're afraid to have that happen again. You're afraid that if you let someone get too close, you'll lose them too."

"Yes," she nods.

He steps towards her. He hugs her. She hugs him back. After a moment he lets go. He flips the elevator back on. The elevator stops, and the doors open. They step out, going their separate ways.

When she gets home, she pulls out the box. She dumps it on the bed, going through each item with care. Wedding pictures. Anniversary gifts. It was sad really, the way it had ended. They were married to each other, and to the job. They rarely saw each other, and when they did they fought. They always argued about needing to spend more time together. She had never expected that it would end that way. She never knew that day, would be her last day with him. If she had, maybe things would have gone differently. Maybe she wouldn't hate herself for the things that she had said to him. Maybe she would be able to forgive herself for the last words that she ever said to him. But the past, it was the one thing that she could not change.

Her ghosts, her demons, they never stopped reminding her, of all the wrong turns she had taken. Of all the lives she had ended. Of the ones she couldn't save. When she was alone, she was reminded. How what haunted her most, could not be changed. That some mistakes can never be fixed. Some words you can't take back.

There were a lot of things that she didn't believe in. Fate, fidelity, true love. Then she met him. The first time that she saw him she knew, he was the one. The man that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. He was not what she had envisioned. He was definitely not what her father had pictured_. _

_She sits at the table, staring at the menu. A group of young men, sit down at the table next to her. They are loud and obnoxious. Another young man, enters. He stops next to her. She looks up at him. He stands before her, in a uniform. She smiles when she meets his big green eyes._

_"I apologize for my friends. They can get a little bit rowdy sometimes. We're on leave for a couple of days," he informs her._

_"You know the table looks a little full, maybe you could sit here," she points to the chair across the table from her._

_"I'd like that. I'm Gabriel, by the way," he holds out his hand._

_"Ziva," she smiles, shaking his hand firmly. He takes the seat, across the table from her._

_"How old are you?" He questions._

_"I'll be eighteen in three weeks. You?"_

_"I'm eighteen. I joined when I was seventeen. I've always known what I wanted to do. I got my GED, and my parents signed the papers."_

_"You've always wanted to be a Marine?"_

_"I've always wanted to serve my country. I may not always believe what everyone else believes, but I am happy to stand up, for their right to believe it. What about you? What do you want to do?"_

_"I hope to work for Mossad, one day."_

_"Why Mossad?"_

_"Why not?" she replies._

_"Since I am sitting with you, do I have to buy your dinner?"_

_"Is this a date?"_

_"Do you want it to be?"_

_She studies him. He is sun-kissed from the dessert sun. His big green eyes are full of hope. His short cropped hair, is sandy brown. _

_"Well? Are you done sizing me up yet?" he inquires._

_"I guess you'll do," she smiles._

Her last conversation with him, had not been so sweet. Her last few days with him, had not been so sweet. It was a difficult time. There was a lot of stress with their jobs. He called Israel home, but when duty called, he was gone. She was getting tired of never knowing where he was. She traveled often, but if he was at home, she always let him know where she was. He did not do her the same courtesy. She was ready to leave Mossad, do something else. She had asked him to make the same sacrifice, to save their marriage, but it wasn't that easy for him.

_She glares at him from the passengers seat. He glances at her._

_"Something on your mind?"_

_"Why is it that you never let me drive? It seems that I am perfectly capable of doing so, when you are not around."_

_"I am home for four days and you really want to start fighting, now?"_

_"Just answer the question."_

_"I hate your driving. I am more likely to die in a car, with you driving, than in a minefield, or next to a bomb."_

_"That is really what I wanted to hear."_

_"Ziva why do we always have to fight?"_

_"Because you are never home."_

_"And you are?"_

_"More than you are."_

_"Why have you been so moody lately? Why can't you just be happy?"_

_"I am trying to be happy, but I want you around. I need you around."_

_"You can take care of yourself."_

_"I know that I am capable. I did not get married, so I could spend all of my time alone."_

_"Are you really considering leaving Mossad?"_

_"Yes. Why are you so opposed to it?"_

_"Your father has enough reasons to hate me. There is the elopement, the not telling him for six months. The list is pretty long."_

_"I have told you that I don't care if the two of you get along."_

_"I do. I value my life."_

_"Gabriel can we just stop? I am tired of arguing. I just want to be with you. I just want you to want to be home."_

_"I do want to be home."_

_"Money isn't everything."_

_"I am trying to give you everything that you want. I am trying to fulfill all of your dreams, and that takes money."_

_"I would rather have you."_


	3. One Thing

_"You also want a house, a nice one, that we can settle into. One big enough for us to have a family in, one day. You love your job, I don't know why you're in such a hurry to start expanding our family. Can't we just enjoy each other?"_

_"You are never home. You aren't home enough to know what I want."_

_"What do you want?"_

_"Gabriel, I need you to be home, damnit!"_

_"Why all of the sudden are you so clingy? Up until recently, you didn't need me around. You were happy seeing me when you saw me. What has changed all of the sudden?"_

_"One day is a lot sooner than you think," she replies._

_"What are you talking about? What does that mean? One day is a lot sooner than I think?"_

_"I just want you home with me. I want to know that if I need you, you are going to be reachable, at least for the next few months."_

_"Why? What is going on?"_

_"I know that I am asking a lot, but you have to understand."_

_"Understand what?"_

She stares at a black and white picture. A picture of the future that she had envisioned. The way she thought things were going to go. It's funny how much things can change, from one minute to the next. How what you want one day, is the last thing you want, the next. It's easy to violate rule number eight. You start getting comfortable, and you forget that the world, is not always a good place. Life is not always a fairytale. There aren't always happy endings.

_She looks at him. She decides she has to tell him, before he goes back to work, and leaves her again. He has to know._

_"Ziva?"_

_"I'm sorry that I have not been myself lately."_

_"Is there a reason?"_

_"Yes. A big one."_

_"And what is that?"_

_"One day is not very far in the future."_

_"How can you know that? Can you see into the future?"_

_"No, but I know that the clock has started ticking."_

_"What clock?"_

_"I'm pregnant."_

_"What? How long have you known?"_

_"Weeks."_

_"Weeks? Why didn't you tell me, sooner?"_

_"I was waiting for the right time."_

_"So how far along are you?"_

_"Are you going to try to do the math in your head or..."_

_He cuts her off, "Just tell me."_

_"Ten weeks. You were home," she adds._

_"Why do you expect that I always think the worst of you?"_

_"Because sometimes you do."_

_"We were young, and I have gotten over it."_

_"Really? Because it seems to me like you still hold it over my head."_

_"Ziva I do not want to talk about that today."_

_"You never talk about it. You never say anything about it. I just see it in the way that you look at me, that you still don't trust me. It was a lapse in judgements, and it meant nothing."_

_"We had vows, and you broke them. I never broke my vows. You did. You cheated on me, more than once."_

_"And I have apologized a million times, and you still don't forgive me."_

_"I forgave you, a long time ago. I am just waiting on you, to forgive yourself."_

_Before she can respond she feels the air being knocked out of her. She hears tires screeching, and metal flying. She smells burning rubber. She feels a loss of control. She looks at him, hoping that it is not the last time she sees him. Then it all goes black. _

_When she comes to she is sitting in a hospital bed. She opens her eyes, and looks around the room. Light shines in through the window. She finds her father, sitting in a chair next to her. She feels woozy, but she feels no pain. She looks at her arm, it is covered by a cast. The other arm has an IV, and several bruises, and contusions. She brushes her hair out of her face. She feels a bandage, covering stitches on her forehead. Her nose feels dry. She realizes that she has oxygen on. She takes a breath, and she notices that her chest moves asymmetrically._

_Eli touches her hand. He begins to speak, before she asks questions._

_"You were in a car accident. Do you remember that?"_

_"Yes," she replies hoarsely._

_"What else?"_

_"That is the last thing I remember," she admits._

_"Ok."_

_"Where is Gabriel?"_

_He looks at her, and struggles to come up with the right words, "Ziva, Gabriel wasn't as lucky as you. He did not make it."_

_"No," she shakes her head, finally feeling the pain. Her chest tightens, and her heart races. "I don't believe you."_

_"It is the truth. Ziva it is no secret that I was not incredibly fond of him, but I would not take him from you. I would not lie to you about this. You loved him, and I would not cause you the pain of losing him. It is true."_

_"It simply cannot be," she argues._

_"I am sorry."_

_"Why is it that I cannot remember how I got here?"_

_"You have been heavily sedated, for three days."_

_"Three days? Why?"_

_"You sustained a lot of trauma. There was a lot of blood loss, and the head injury, broken bones. They thought that it would be best if you had time to rest, time to heal."_

_She looks at him, afraid to ask her next question. He looks at her. He answers before she can ask._

_"There is more," he tells her._

_She shakes her head, "No," the tears well up in her eyes, "I do not want to hear anymore."_

_"This is a tragedy, but you will recover."_

_"No, I don't want to."_

_"You have no choice."_

_"What do I have to live for?"_

_"Your job. What you do is important."_

_"I have just lost everything, and that is what you are thinking about? The job?"_

_"I am sorry. What do you want me to think about? What would you like me to say? I am not good at this. You just lost your husband, and your unborn child, what would you like me to say?"_

_"I want you to leave."_

_"Ziva..."_

_"Go. I do not want you here."_

_"I am your family."_

_"No. I lost my family three days ago. You are not my family."_

A single tear falls from her face as she stares at a black and white picture. A picture of an unborn baby, that she would never have, never meet, never know. A child that she thought would be her future, but instead was her past. She almost had it all, and now she had nothing. Just a box, full of worthless memories. A box full of the past she could not change. A box full of pain she always felt. A box that she carried around with her, everywhere she went.

She did not need another box like this one. Even though she knew she could have one, she didn't want it. She couldn't take the chance. The first time she met Tony, she saw that same look. She knew, that she could have those things back, but she did not want them. She could not bear the thought of losing it all, again. She could not bear the thought of losing him, so to keep from it, she would never have him, instead.


	4. When The Heartache Ends

She stares at him, surprised to find him at her door. She leads him in.

"What are you doing here?" she questions.

"I just came to check on you, make sure that you're alright."

"I am fine," she lies.

"You have been crying."

"It's complicated."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I couldn't."

"Ziva... there are things that you do not know."

"You were not married," she points out.

"No I wasn't," he takes a seat on her couch. She takes a seat on the coffee table. He stares at her, waiting for her to say something. Her hair is damp. It's dark, and wavy. Her eyes are red, from crying. She wears a white long-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of navy blue sweat pants. The sleeves of her shirt are pulled down over her hands. He searches her face, and knows to choose his words wisely.

"You should tell me, about it."

"What is there to tell?"

"You loved him. Start with that."

"No. I do not care to relive the past. The past is, is just that."

"You were married for four years. You let a car accident take away your ability to love?"

She looks up at him. "I never told you that," she points out.

"I'm not good at staying in the dark," he replies.

"What do you know?"

"Everything, more than even you know."

"I doubt that."

"You lost everything in that accident, but it wasn't an accident."

"What?"

"Ziva... what did Gabriel do for a living?"

"He was a security consultant."

"Who signed his paychecks?"

"M & D security. Why does it matter? Why are you bringing this up?"

"And Mossad?"

"Mossad? Gabriel did not work for Mossad. He hated Mossad. He hated my father, they did not get along."

"Ziva... Gabriel did not meet you by chance."

"Tony, this is unbelievable. You are trying to sell me some theory of yours? I hope you don't think that it is going to make me feel better."

"It isn't a theory. It's a fact. I did a lot of research. Your father met Gabriel, before Gabriel met you."

"What are you saying? That my father set me up?"

"He needed a believable cover. If the two of you were married, then Gabriel would have a reason to move to Israel."

"You can't be serious. I loved him. He loved me, that was real."

"I agree. He did fall in love with you."

"But?"

"He did also work for M & D security, but he also worked for Mossad. He exposed vulnerabilities so that Mossad could exploit them."

"You're wrong."

"I am not trying to hurt you."

"This certainly does not help me."

"I know that you loved him. I know that he loved you. I also know that he didn't want to lie to you anymore. He didn't want to do what he was doing anymore, because he did love you. He thought that you deserved to have what you wanted."

"But someone had him killed? Is that what you think?"

"The accident was planned for months before it happened. It was the only way that he could get out, but it didn't go the way it was supposed to."

"Tony... this is ridiculous. How do you know all of this?"

"Some serious hacking."

"McGee? You brought McGee into this?"

"No, Abby."

"You told her?"

"No. I didn't. I asked her to do me a favor, and not to ask questions."

"She agreed?"

"Reluctantly. She did ask questions, but I refused to answer."

"I do not understand this."

"Some things, they are unforgivable. There are some wrongs that cannot be made right."

"What are you saying?"

"It was too late for him to call it off. It was too late to undo the plan that was already in motion. It was too late to change anything, even though he wanted to. He didn't know that you were going to tell him what you did."

Her eyes fall. His hand touches her leg. She doesn't remove it, she simply allows him to continue.

"And how do you know all of this?"

"He confirmed it."

"He is dead."

"No. Gabriel Paxton is dead, but Gabriel Lucas, he is not."

"Excuse me?"

"Gabriel intended to fake his own death, and after a predetermined amount of time, he would return. He would tell you the truth, but there were things that he did not plan."

"Are you telling me that he is alive?"

"Yes. He didn't want to face you again after what happened."

"This is all very hard to believe."

"It is hard for me to believe that you were married."

"I was."

"It is harder for me to believe that you considered leaving Mossad, back then."

"I did."

"It's hard for me to believe that you fell in love with a US Marine, and eloped, at eighteen."

"I did."

"I can't believe that you never told me."

"I do not like it when people feel sorry for me."

"So that is why you left out the other part?"

"The other part?" she replies coyly.

"The reason that Gabriel stayed dead, to you. The reason he couldn't come back, and face you. He knew that if you knew the truth, you would never forgive him."

"Tony..."

"He knew that you would kill him if you found out that he was responsible for planning the car accident. That he was responsible for the reactions that he caused."

"Tony you don't know what you're talking about."

"That's why when we were undercover, you told me not to imagine you pregnant. I didn't know. I would never had said anything."

A single tear burns her cheek.

"I was stupid to think that I could have it all. That I could ever have a normal life."

"It wasn't stupid. You wanted a husband, and a child, that is not stupid."

"Look around, Tony. Do I have any of that?" she looks around the apartment, "No. I just have bad memories. I think that it was stupid."

"No. He was stupid."

"He is really alive?"

"Yes."

"Can I kill him?"

"You're asking permission?"

"An opinion."

"There is no doubt that you can."

"Will you hate me if I do?"

"No, but he hates himself enough for the both of you."

"How do you know?"

"He's been married four more times," DiNozzo pulls pictures, he hands them to her. "None of them were you. He now lives on a ranch, in Montana with all the cattle, and booze a broken hearted man could want."

Ziva flips through the pictures.

"He got the look, but he could never get the personality."


	5. Can You Help Me

"You spoke to him?"

"He told me that he could never face you again. He said he left Israel, knowing that he took the one thing that ever meant anything to you. He told me that he didn't mean to hurt you, but that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. He knew you'd never forgive him, so he walked away."

"He doesn't get to just walk away. I did not just get to walk away. I woke up, and I couldn't even walk. I spent three weeks in the hospital. I couldn't run away from what happened. I tried. I did everything I could think of, to try to make the gaping hole go away, but nothing worked. I tried every trick I knew to try to make the emptiness disappear, but I never could. I faced the fact that it was something I was going to have to carry around with me for the rest of my life. I can't... I can't get the picture out of my mind, no matter how hard I try," she admits.

"I know."

"No you don't," she argues. She gets off the coffee table, and goes into her bedroom. She returns with a picture. She hands it to him.

"Every single day of my life, something reminds me of this. Something reminds me of the life that I could of have. Someone reminds me of the fact that I let this, turn me into something that I never wanted to be. After I lost..." she trails off.

He wipes the tears from her cheeks. "It's ok, you can say it."

"I hate this. I hate feeling like this. I feel broken, and vulnerable, and out of control. I hate it."

"I know."

"To you that is just a black and white blob, but to me... it was the future that I was going to have. It was the fairytale that I was going to live. It was a face that I dreamed about, every night, I dreamed about it."

"Did you know, what it was?"

"It was too early to tell, but I always dreamed of a little girl. A little girl, that I will never have. A life that I will never have."

"What happened, afterwards?"

"I had no mercy. I wanted revenge, and it didn't matter who was in my way. It didn't matter who I hurt, because I had nothing to live for. It didn't matter what I did, because I did not care about my life. I did not want to live. I went off the deep end. The only thing that drove me was anger. I felt angry, all of the time. I did everything in my power to feel nothing. I never succeeded. I just dug myself into a hole."

"Sometimes I think that you are still there."

"Sometimes I am."

"Maybe you could use a shovel, to dig you out?"

"It will take more than that."

"A backhoe, maybe?"

"I am damaged goods..."

He smiles, and wraps her in his arms. "Nice to finally meet you, the real you."

She buries her head in her shoulder. She was not used to letting him see her this way, but she didn't care. He knew the truth. She knew there was nothing she could do to get rid of him now. She sobs uncontrollably.

He holds her, and strokes her hair, but she is inconsolable. She clings to him. He holds her, not willing to let her go.

"Maybe a light would be better, than a backhoe?" he whispers.

"The darkness, it is the worst part," she admits, beginning to breathe again.

"I know."

"I hate my father for so many things, but if he had not forced me to go back to Mossad, I would be dead. I did not want to leave that hospital, unless it was in a body bag."

"Ziva..."

"What?" she snaps.

"Maybe you should talk to Gabriel."

"Why? I have nothing to say to him."

"I think that you know that isn't true. You have a lot of things to say to him, to say to your father."

"What I have to say doesn't matter, it never has."

"It does matter."

"To who?"

"It matters to me."

"Why?"

"Because saying something, anything, is better than holding it all in."

"I am not good at just talking. I would rather use actions than words."

"And where has that gotten you?"

"No where."

"So just once, could we try something my way?"

"If we must."

"I am not asking you to be nice to him, I am not asking you to see him in person. Just call him. Tell him how much he hurt you."

"And if I can't?"

"You have to. You have to start healing. You let time pass, but your wounds never heal, because you are always ripping them back open. You are always creating new ones, so that you never have to deal with any of them. You go from one pain to another. It's time to stop, it isn't healthy. There has got to be more than this. You have to choose something more than this."

"How? The only thing that I am good at is... running, at avoiding things."

"That isn't true."

"Where would I even start?"

"It is simple. You take it one thing at a time. First you pick up the phone, and dial his number. He'll answer, and you'll say hello. He'll ask you questions, and you will answer. Then you will come up with questions to ask him. And you will have answers. Answers that you need to hear, from the source."

"What if I do not like the answers that he gives me?"

"I never said that you would. You just have to take what you learn, and figure out how to deal with it."

"I do not know how to deal with this. Is there a secret, or a trick that I should learn?"

"It's simple."

"What is it?"

"It's not a trick, or a secret."

"So what is it?"

"Don't let it consume you. Learn to find closure, so that the things from your past don't swallow you up, whole. If you keep going the way that you are, never deal with any of it, never letting anyone in, one day you will simply disappear, into the whole that you have dug, and there will be no way to get you out."

"So how do I change?"

"You start, by asking for help. Stop being afraid that people are going to think you are weak because you ask for help. It is not a sign of weakness, it takes strength to admit when you are over your head, and you need help."

She swallows hard. She looks at him. He stares into her cold brown eyes. He sees the light bulb in her head go off. She takes a breath, and then opens her mouth to speak.

"Will you help me?"


End file.
